Mr. Dackett waved him away. “Bah! No buts. You made a butt enough of yourself just now. Now go think about this lesson before you ever return to my counter again,” he said. Defeated, the young man left.
Thus free of silliness, the librarian was again able to give his full attention to the matters at hand. His enemy was crafty, even at his young age. Mr. Dackett was apt to praise such intelligence when it was not used for mischief. Time and time again he had been thwarted and relinquished of a book, a book that had no right to be taken from the library or allowed in the hands of one so decidedly troublesome and bold.
It was about the principle after all.
Still devoted to his vigil, Mr. Dackett let his other senses detect the approach of his assistant. And while he had allowed her to remain under his employ, the bitterness of her betrayal still made him grunt disapprovingly as she passed by him and placed an ancient looking book upon the counter. His assistant shook her head at his response before tucking a newly dyed purple streak behind her right ear.
Waiting a moment for further response, she rolled her eyes and turned away. “You’re welcome, by the way,” she offered.
Mr. Dackett grunted again. “I will thank you when either you prove yourself trustworthy or victory has been claimed on this day, and not a second before, Heidi,” he said to her.
Heidi fetched her bag and slung it over her shoulder before eyeing at Mr. Dackett once more. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay? It’s busy,” she said.
Mr. Dackett waved a hand in dismissal. “It is nothing I cannot handle, young lady. I was tending books well before you were even tending diapers,” he replied indifferently. “Besides, if you are not here then you are not in leagues with the enemy.”
Heidi groaned as she exhaled, clearly vexed. “And just how is he the enemy, Mr. Dackett? He checks out a book he likes. He reads it and returns it unharmed. You would do well to have more patrons like him,” she said.
Mr. Dackett barked a laugh. “Ha! I count my lucky stars I’ve never met another one like him. My aging heart couldn’t endure the stress of such a strain,” he said.
Heidi glared as she crossed her arms and tapped her foot. “So, you are sure then? I can go enjoy my Saturday? I mean, all this focus you have on the doors surely means you are going to miss a detail or two. I think you have already made at least two patrons cry today and it is still early.”
Mr. Dackett nodded without looking at her. “You are free to do as you will, so long as it is not in this library You may return again on Monday when this has passed,” he said.
“Whatever you say,” said Heidi as she turned to leave. She quickly stopped and turned back around before fetching something under the counter. “Oh, I almost forgot. The mail arrived while you were planning your proper defenses,” she added.
Mr. Dackett seemed unconcerned. “Just leave it next to the book, Heidi, and try to enjoy yourself without further betrayals to me,” he said.
Heidi threw up her hands defeated. “We’re librarians! How is checking out books a betrayal?”
Mr. Dackett was unmoved. “I’m the librarian here. You are still an assistant. You can call yourself a librarian the day you understand the principle of the thing,” he said.
Heidi sighed and turned away frustratingly. “Whatever you say, sir,” she said before heading to the doors. “See you Monday where hopefully this insanity will have long passed,” she said.
Mr. Dackett growled. “Keep that up, young lady, and I will show you insanity!” he barked. Mr. Dackett then turned his head fiercely to the patrons calling for quiet. “And I don’t even want to hear it!”
Now free to resume his post, Mr. Dackett focused all energies again upon the doors. He knew that it was only a question of time. Soon his enemy would return, and they would wage in a battle of wills. The old librarian had been too lax before, had underestimated his opponent. But no more. This time he would be ready for anything that could be cast his way.
Time passed, and Mr. Dackett grew more suspicious. Their encounters had always come earlier than this and the librarian was convinced it was a ploy to get him to let his guard down. Instead, Mr. Dackett placed a firm hand upon the cover of the book before him, smiling confidently as he continued to wait. Today was his day and his victory.
It was then, feeling the book in his hand that Mr. Dackett’s smile waned.
Looking down, the librarian was distracted by the smoothness of the cover he felt. He saw the familiar cover with his eyes, setting upon it with his scrutiny. The glossy shimmer and cleanliness that he saw and felt put him at further unease. Opening the book, he saw the truth unfurl. Growling again, he removed the fake, glistening forgery that covered a hardbound work of fiction.
“Blast it,” bellowed Mr. Dackett as he looked about. The patrons present eyed the old librarian as if he had gone mad, which was not an unusual occurrence in the slightest. Still not seeing his enemy, Mr. Dackett’s focus returned to the book and the mail next to it. His attention then diverted to a card envelope in the mix addressed directly to him. Cursing himself, Mr. Dackett picked up the envelope and opened it hastily.
Inside the envelope had been a cheery thank you card. Opening it revealed a book check-out slip with a post-it wielding a smiley face upon it and a quick word of thanks. Mr. Dackett eyed the slip, seeing a familiar name written for the third time in a row. The slip was stamped, obviously by Heidi. The librarian made note of her further treachery and the influence his enemy held over her.
Shaking his head and balling his fists on his hips, Mr. Dackett’s anger spilled from his lips as he uttered his annoyance clearly. “Mathias,” he rumbled.
Now free of the library, Heidi made her way to the nearby park, which was relatively half-way between the library and her home. This made it slightly less of an inconvenience for her as she headed home, though she still did not understand the game she found herself stuck within somewhere in the middle. Mr. Dackett was generally tolerable even when he was at his grumpiest. But she was beginning to find him impossible the days he fought Mathias for possession of the book in her bag.
Heidi recalled the last account and her first foray into the little battle between aged librarian and enthusiastic young man. She was confused when Mathias first approached her about his plans, and she was more than happy to join in on the fun. But after all the grief she had received from the first round, she sorely wished she knew the secret or inside joke that both competitors were withholding. Heidi had scoured the contents of Crescent Moon up and down, stymied that only one page was filled with any words whatsoever. She even knew the words by heart now, though the knowledge only compounded her frustration.
After a few minutes, Heidi found herself entering the park. She was equally warmed and annoyed by the children at play. Heidi had never been one for large crowds and the kids were okay so long as they could be appreciated from a distance. She kept her pace quick and her head fixed straight as she made her way to her destination, not wanting to be in the park any longer than she had to be.
It wasn’t long before she caught sight of Mathias Engleborn, sitting casually where he had promised to be. He looked his usual jubilant self as he watched the park regulars playing. He turned toward Heidi and smiled with his usual earnestness. Heidi shook her head as she made eye contact with him, for she didn’t know whether to be happy or annoyed. Instead, she chose to be both as she sat next to him
Mathias looked at her in silence for some time before responding. “Well, hello,” he said warmly.
Heidi scowled as she sat back on the bench and opened her bag, fishing for the book. “Oh, save it,” she said as she procured the ancient relic from her bag. “You have gotten me in trouble again.”
Mathias chuckled. “Mr. Dackett is too fond of your intelligence to be mad at you for long. You are one of the few teens he can stand. Now me on the other hand, well that is an entirely different story,” he said.
Heidi spoke to him through gritted teeth. “You aren’t t
he one who has to deal with him,” she muttered.
Mathias nodded at this. “Fair enough. It’s why my next few plans won’t involve you. You deserve a cooling off period. And thank you again, by the way,” he said.
“Yeah, yeah,” said Heidi as she went to hand Mathias the book before pulling it back to her lap. “Just a second. Do you have my payment?”
Mathias grinned again. “Of course,” he said before reaching to his left. He procured a notebook and a covered casserole dish. “Here are my notes for English class and here is my mother’s famous chocolate lasagna.”
Heidi almost forgot about the notes as she took the casserole dish full of deliciousness. “I have been waiting all week for this. You are all mine,” she said gratefully, caressing the lid. “I almost have a feeling you planned this from the beginning when you brought me one piece, but now that this is on my lap, I honestly don’t care.”
Mathias chuckled at her response. “Well it is just nice seeing such a devilish and decadent concoction being used for noble purposes,” he said as he extended his hand. “Now before you go in head first, do you mind if I hold on to that book?”
“Oh. Yeah,” said Heidi as she handed Mathias Crescent Moon and resumed her full attention to the chocolate lasagna on her lap.
Taking the book in his hands again, Mathias could not help but be moved by the magic he felt. Like reuniting with an old friend, the book brought out in him a deep and resounding feeling. Running his hand over its cover, Mathias fought a grin. He had no idea what adventures were in store for him, yet he would welcome them with open arms.
Heidi looked at him expectantly as she put the notes he had given her away. “So, we’re done here?” she asked.
Mathias nodded. “Yeah. We’re done here, Heidi. Go enjoy your reward. Just remember my mom is going to want that dish back when you are done,” he said.
“Not until I enjoy every last bite, even if I have to lick the dish clean,” she replied.
Mathias shook his head, chuckling. “Well, even if you are that thorough, do run it through the dishwasher before you return it, for all of our sakes,” he said.
“Har, har,” replied Heidi as she stood. “You know one of these days, you are going to have to explain what the fuss is all about with that book.”
“Or,” started Mathias as he pointed to the dish in her hands. “I could just keep you fully stocked in chocolatey goodness.”
Heidi looked down at the full dish in her hands. “I suppose that’s fair,” she said. “I’ll see you later.”
“See ya, Heidi,” said Mathias as he waved. “And thanks again, truly.”
Heidi grinned wickedly. “Are you kidding? I am the one who made out like a bandit here,” she offered, laughing wickedly before departing with her prize.
Mathias watched her depart, pleased with her happiness. It was then that his focus returned to Crescent Moon. He fought the urge to open it then and there before standing to return home. Tucking the book securely under one arm, Mathias started his journey home, again whistling a happy tune as he did so.
Perfectly content, Mathias let his eyes wander the park, picking up glimmers of happiness wherever he looked. Strolling through the park always warmed his heart, for he realized that such things were crucial for happiness. Mathias reminded himself that he needed to get his parents out for a picnic or a movie soon. Besides, such a diversion couldn’t hurt when he would be forced to explain to them why he had procured the same book for the third time in so many months.
As he neared the park’s end, Mathias was suddenly overwhelmed with purpose. Stumbling at such a feeling, Mathias took a moment to collect himself. Suddenly, a deep urgency resonated within him as made sure no none saw his brief stagger. His compulsion to read Crescent Moon was now almost maddening, as if the book was calling to him with great urgency.
Mathias rushed back into the park, pulling away from the jungle gyms and open areas that were most frequented. Finding a quiet little spot under a tree, Mathias sat himself under the shade. Using the tree trunk to rest on, he made himself as comfortable as possible before lifting the book with both hands and opening. He relished the feel of its pages as their scent hinted at years of use and lost magics. Without needing assistance, Mathias began whispering the magical words that unveiled the mystery that was Crescent Moon.
Wars must be waged, and battles fought
Where heroes stand with conscience clear
As Light against the growing Dark
To face the blight and rising doom
With the Dreamer stand above all fear
And hold the fate at Crescent Moon
With the words spoken, the book revealed itself to Mathias once more, and he welcomed its magic gladly. With growing excitement, Mathias watched as the faded pages swelled again with words. As his eyes began to read, he was ecstatic to be reunited with the courageous weed from Bunda-Bas and his continuing exploits to protect the kingdom of Alethia.
Chapter One
Defenders of Alethia
With a new dawn wrought by the rising Firestar, golden light blanketed the waiting lands of Alethia. Vibrant flowers shimmered under Niburu, the great tree of life as the beautiful morning sky embraced the entire Saelen Kingdom. The plant people of the region stretched their petals and uprooted themselves, anxious for the new day. Soon, the land was filled with flower people, either walking familiar routes or taking to the skies for work or chores.
Hiding in a swell of bushes, several imps watched Alethia from a respectful distance. While nightfall was preferred for mischief, the early morning was the best time to snatch unsuspecting flowers. It was a reward well worth the risk, for the imps knew they could have their gathering done in one fell swoop and be gone from these lands quickly. For Midsyr and his group of the Dark Claw imps, such an outcome was highly preferred.
From his hiding place, the imp known as Midsyr weighed his prospects. He was looking for bright, elegant flowers, for they often went for high prices at market. Plus, they were much easier to catch than the trained warriors. For while Midsyr held confidence in terms of his company’s size, he also knew that an assembled group of fighting flowers could spell a great deal of trouble for him and his men.
From Midsyr’s left, one of his henchmen, Cutley popped up near his leader. “Have you found us our quarry yet,” he asked, clearly itching for action.
Midsyr hissed, for Cutley had little regulation over how loud he spoke. “Hush it, you! I’ll say when we are ready,” he spat, pushing Cutley down and away from him. Now again free of Cutley’s pestering, Midsyr resumed his scouting.
Exuding patience, a trait painfully difficult for most imps, Midsyr scanned the areas around Alethia. He prospected targets once more, keeping low in his cover when flying patrols passed overhead. At last, his sights set upon a group of four flowers talking as they walked to pick berries and spices. The four colorful flowers laughed and chatted without a care in the world and Midsyr’s fanged grin deepened at the sight of them. If he could be patient a few moments longer, him and his group could cut them off from Alethia and make their work all the easier.
Midsyr raised a clawed hand to gather the attention of his five minions. “Ready yourselves,” he whispered. “I have found our bounty.”
Ockwell jumped quickly next to him, searching about restlessly. “At last!” he exclaimed.
Midsyr thrust a hand across his mouth, fighting the urge to throttle Ockwell where he stood. “Quiet, you,” he murmured. “Keep your wits or I will cook you myself!”
Still holding to Ockwell, Midsyr watched as the four flowers paused and looked about curiously. Lowering down further, the Dark Claw leader waited and held his breath. After some time, the four flowers resumed their walk, passing by the bush and brush that housed the imps. Satisfied, Midsyr released Ockwell but not before shaking an angry fist at the incompetence displayed.
“Our time has come,” said Midsyr as he motioned for Cutley to ready their burlap sack. “On my command, we
shall claim those four flowers. Swarm them, surround them, and then let us be free of this place.”
“It is about time,” whispered Cutley.
“We will be eating good tonight,” giggled Ockwell.
“It almost feels too easy, don’t you think?” said another voice, familiar but certainly not one of the Dark Claws.
Midsyr froze as he searched about. Rustling in a nearby tree above drew his attention as a small figure leaped from a branch and near the brush and bush. The little creature landed gracefully as he offered a grin and a bow, running a hand through the purple thistles that was his hair. Resting on his back was a powerful wand. On his belt two small thorn daggers. Both had troubled the Dark Claws before. Instantly, Midsyr’s blood boiled at remembrance.
“Theophilus Thistle,” spat Midsyr as he clenched his fists. The Dark Claw’s morning had just turned from sweet to sour in an instant. The other imps snarled at the little weed.
Theophilus grinned as he drew the wand resting on his back. “Midsyr, old chap! I didn’t expect to see you again so soon! Either you missed me and such moments or your gluttony for punishment will not be denied. Either way, I thank you for saving me the trouble of finding you again,” said Theophilus cheerfully. “Now come quietly or you will only fill my morning with good cheer as I best you and your lot.”
Midsyr growled as he motioned to his minions. “You and what army, little twerp?” he asked.
Theophilus patted his wand. “Oh, ol’ Digus and I shall suffice, I think. Have at you!”
“Get him!” Midsyr raged as his brethren rushed forward.
The imps obeyed quickly, as they were hungry for action. The group rushed Theophilus as one and the little weed leaped into the air, flipping over the imps as they collided into one another. Landing between them and their leader, Theophilus aimed and fired a powerful bolt from Digus. The shot struck Midsyr in the gut and sent him soaring from the brush and into open grass. At the sight of him, the roaming flowers all began to rush back to the safety of Alethia. Midsyr came to a rolling stop as he toppled on the ground, groaning at his pain and misfortune.
The Adventures of Theophilus Thistle Page 15